Things come to mind
That make me laugh
Something a guy
I knew did
Or said a guy
I used to work
With and then
I’ll go oh wait
He died 
Last year
I think it was

Once I saw
Vince with the
Way he walked
Leaning back
A bit up ahead
On Charles Street
In the West Village
First I thought
What’s Vince 
Doing down town
Here heading
For the docks
And then it 
Was like
Oh shit that’s
Not him he
Died a while back
Poor guy

I was at the 
Kitchen table with
My mother
I’d bring an egg sandwich
In from the deli
(With cheese and 
Bacon on a hard roll)
And we’d split it
Then we’d sit
Around and talk
“I saw Dad,” she said
“Really?” 
“Yeah, I really did.”
“I believe you
Where was he?”
“In the TV room,
Standing where the
Hospice bed was”
“How long was he
There for?”
“A couple minutes. Like
Probably two good minutes.”
“That’s pretty long.”
“Yeah.”
“Was he doing anything,
Did he say anything?”
“No”
“Was he, did he
Seem happy, sad?”
“No. Just kind of 
Stood there
Alana said
She heard his
Voice one night
You know he always
Called her Sweetie”
“That’s nice”
“Yeah, she heard
Him say Sweetie
In the dark”
“That’s very nice”
“Yeah”
                        

There were yellow
And red poppies 
On the trail
To the Russian River
In July
1987

There was a young
German hiker
Cooking salmon
Over an open fire
He offered
Us lunch
In a tinfoil
Packet

There was a
Spot by the
River where 
We sat on
The rocks 
And watched
The salmon 
Struggling up
The white water
Falls
On their way
To spawn
                        

I offered
Among other things
An indefinite
And lame wage
Earner male
Role model
A number
Of hikes
Walks up 
Buck Mt, etc
Alcohol
Troubles
Reading before
Bed 
Frog and Toad and
So forth
The names of
Things in the
House
In the woods
In the sky
Unaccountable bursts
Of sarcasm and 
Wise ass 
Arrogant
Snide remarks
Lunch
With olive oil
Garlic and
Hummus on
Pane Bello
Bread
With a thick
Slice of ripe
August
Tomato
And rooms
Full of books
And dust
And unwashed
Windows
Looking out